TYRANT
by Amaranth Rencor
Summary: This story follows the life of Toulouse, a Zangoose, born into a world that seemed to lament his very existence for no reason he could help... Maybe he should give it something to hate him for.  Rated for gore, excessive swearing and general weirdness.
1. Prologue

'EY~ Been a while since I last actually submitted anything, I know~ I've been in a bit of a rut with writing anything decent =P  
Through an RP buddy, and a re-obsession with Pokemon, this fic was born~  
Bear with me, since I know this is a bit oddly written,and there will be large time jumps, badly written gore and a looooot of swearing. I've picked up teh unfortunate habit of swearing too much over teh summer and it seemed to have leaked into my fics. ._.''

Anyways, this is only the prologue. Updates? WHOA NOW. Let's not get ahead of ourselves D8 I now refuse to commit myself to saying if and when updates will come on anything. I seem to lose motivation somehow.. Dun ask, I'm a little weird that way.

ANYWHO. **DISCLAMER:**  
I do not own Pokemon.

I only claim ownership over the character and his story, so far.

Now.. Let the story begin~

* * *

He stood in the middle of a small, now blood-soaked forest clearing, staring not at the carnage he had wrought, but rather, _through_ it.

He was too far gone to notice how the warm red liquid that covered most of his person dripped off his claws, pooling in a dark, thickening patch at his feet.

His torso, rendered so drenched in crimson one couldn't make out the 'M' fur pattern known to his species, was rising and falling in ragged breaths.

He couldn't see the mangled bodies in front of him, beside him… all around…

There was a sickening circle of corpses, who had done their slayer no wrong, but had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

A soft wind blew through the forest, ruffling the blood-spattered leaves of the bushes and caressing the gouged trunks of the trees, echoing one question,

"_Why…?_"

He flicked his ears, trying to dismiss the inquiry, but it seemed into him; tearing savagely at the barrier around his mind, and slowly but surely, it diminished.

Another breeze blew by blew by, rougher and more insistent that the first.

"_Why?_"

The tyrant blinked, eyes becoming unglazed. His heavy, irregular breathing slowed to a saner tempo.

A tyrant, yes, that's what he was. Yes.

…And… Yes, it was _who_ as well…

_Tyrant…_

He seemed to quite suddenly snap out of his trance, head jerking up. Taking in his surrounding with mounting trepidation, he stepped back, trying to distance himself from his crime, only to find himself with no such escape; surrounded, smothered.

The Pokémon had to raise an arm to cover his eyes as an angry gale ripped past, demanding an answer.

"_Why?_"

The wind died as quickly as it had come and the arm was dropped.

He had no answer.

For the question that seemed so vague, that could have encompassed endless things, there could be no simple answer, no proper one.

The entire area was eerily quiet and the tyrant could hear his hear racing frantically in his ears and the blood as it rushed through him.

His breathing, which had finally seemed to stabilize, took on a slightly hysterical state. The eyes that could finally focus had their vision blurred.

He couldn't take it anymore.

Screwing his eyes shut, hue fled, not paying the direction he was headed in any mind. He just needed to get _away_…

His mad dash could only last so long and the Pokémon staggered into an uneven walking gait.

The sky growled at him, darkening by the second.

His mind reeled as memories came flooding back.

This forced him to stop.

"No…" he groaned, willing them away, only continuing when his mind was satisfactorily empty of the thoughts.

He wandered aimlessly for what seemed like an eternity, phased by nothing.

Even when the flood gates of the heavens opened up and rained down harshly upon him, he trudged on.

He finally realized his body would take him no further, and collapsed onto the sodden grass, the rain beating down upon him with all the intensity of a formidable storm.

The fact that he was out in a flat field during what could turn into a nasty thunder story didn't even cross his mind.

He simply and willingly began to relinquish his feeble gasp on reality, slipping into a deep, disturbed slumber.

* * *

A/N: Odd indeed...

Reviews make me smile and stop being a lazy ass so I'll write/ type the next installment. c:


	2. 1 Beginnings

Wow how long has it been since an update on this thing? Does anyone even remember? XD But yeah, here we go. More of Toulouse and his story. Now a month might not seem like much to adapt but I'm going to hide behind "level and age are not related" and "they're basically animals" and stuff. Expect the story to skip around quite a bit.I'm not entirely sure when the next chapter will be up, but I'll try~

Hope this isn't too lame or anything :'D Questions, comments, concerns?

* * *

"Un autre échec… A dud…" a feminine voice sighed.

"So then, what are you going to do?" asked another, this one male.

The newly hatched Zangoose blinked in the harsh, bright light of high noon.

"Release him, I guess."

'Failure'? 'Release'? What were these words? What did they mean? Was this about him?

"I was so sure this one would be un brillant! Mais non, it is normal! I even named it!"

Had he done something wrong? Where was his mother? He whined quietly, uneasily. Where was he?

A small mewl escaped him.

"Alright—calm down, you're scaring him, "said the boy, leaning down to the hatchling, casting a shadow over him. He could finally see the faces of the two who spoke. The boy was looking at him with pity, trying to smile. The girl was a few feet behind him, her arms crossed and glaring crossly off to one side.

"What was it?" the boy asked.

"What was what?" snapped the girl, agitated for no reason the young cat understood.

"His name?"

"Oh…" she faltered, glancing briefly at him, and sighing in frustration "But what does it matter now?... Fine… Toulouse."

"Aw, cute, " the boy crooned, reaching to pet the Pokémon who flinched away.

The boy pulled back, forehead creased.

"Know anyone who'd want him? They're strong Pokémon, you know, " he said, turning to the girl.

She shook her head curtly.

"Non, I will just let him go."

"What, here?" the boy sounded incredulous and stood facing the other.

"Why not?"

"Because! Look at the strength of the Pokémon around here! He'd be killed!"

This seemed to make the girl calm down a bit.

'Killed'? No… No, that sounded bad; he didn't want that.

"Ben… I'm not walking back to where they're weak! That is over a day's trip from here and do not have time."

"At least a couple of cities back, be reasonable, Lise!"

She finally seemed to relent and approached Toulouse, enlarging some sort of ball-thing.

He quailed before her, afraid of when might happen to him, but he was simply pressed with the ball and everything was suddenly gone.

He was aware of movement and voices, but felt disconnected from them.

He felt funny; his thoughts were fuzzy and hard to focus on. Even his fear and anxiety over his situation seemed to be dulled. He tried to fight for a while but eventually gave into the feeling, drifting into a strange state of semi-consciousness.

He awoke some undetermined time later as things suddenly started materializing around him. The whole experience made his stomach flip.

Blinking a few times, he tried to focus his eyes into the area he was in.

It was dark out and the small Zangoose gathered he wasn't in the same place as before.

The girl who had be frustrated with him before, Lise, was behind him and stepped back.

"Va, go on," she said without feeling.

Go? Where?

Toulouse stepped back towards her, confused.

"Non!" she growled, stamping her foot.

The Zangoose let out a startled cry and fell backward. He mewled helplessly, scared and disoriented with the whole ordeal.

Lise stomped towards him, flailing her arms in a "shoo"-ing gesture.

"Go on, get out of here! Fiche le camp!"

Toulouse quickly found his feet, scrambling to get away. He fled into the nearby tall grass and hid behind a tree, trying to watch the girl.

"… What a waste of a ball…" she grumbled, turning and walking away briskly.

The small cat whimpered weakly.

His trainer, if that's what one would assume this 'Lise' to have been, had abandoned him? He hadn't been wanted?

A low, threatening rumble came from the sky. Toulouse keened and cowered on the ground, covering his ears.

Alone… He was alone.

What was he supposed to do?

He wanted his mother…! If not her, his father…!

.. Oh, but he'd never really known them, only heard their voices faintly.

No, that didn't matter—he just wanted someone, anyone to make him feel safe.

Another rumble resounded, stronger and longer than before and droplets began to fall.

Toulouse simply lay shivering as he watched.

A bright flash coupled with an angry attack of thunder reverberated causing Toulouse to start with a fearful yelp, desperately clambering for a shelter that did not exist.

A few cold things hit his back and he gasped, scampering away.

Realizing he could do nothing more at the moment, the small Zangoose curled himself tightly into a shivering ball of fur at the base of a thick tree trunk, riding out the storm


	3. 2 Confliction

Toulouse groaned as the paw pushed into his neck further, making it even harder to breathe.

"You need to learn our place," his assailant, a Mightyena, snarled barely an ink from his face.

"Bu-but… " he managed through strangled gasps and grunts in his fruitless escape attempts. "That's… m-mine!"

The canine gave a low, warning growl.

"Survival of the fittest, runt"

The Zangoose groped at the large grey paw crushing his windpipe against the tree, feebly trying to gain an inch in the battle. But it was no use; he was easily overpowered, and one wrong move would spell his demise.

He'd been out in the wild for around a month and had been quick to learn that being fearful and passive was a quick road to starvation. It was either toughen up, or die out here.

He had eked an existence out of scavenging berries and other various small edibles from the undergrowth, but often it was stolen from him by other, far stronger Pokemon. He had put up a fight the first time, lamely scratching a second too late at where his opponent had been. He remembered only that there were many quick, painful blows and then he had blacked out. Upon awakening, he found it was near impossible to lift his head much less get up and scour the forest floor. He lay there for a day and a half before finally dragging himself away in delirium to find sustenance. Needless to say, he had not since attempted any true semblance of struggle since. He didn't want to die and become someone's dinner. He'd seen it happen.

The poor Taillow hadn't a chance in the world against the Persian as it lunged at its unsuspecting target. Toulouse had watched, stricken, as the large cat tore off the bird's wings. Sickened as he was, he found he couldn't look away, even as the feathers flew and wafted to the ground. When all meat was ingested and only bones remained, the Persian licked its bloody maw and looked up at his spectator, pausing, and for a moment, Toulouse thought that he would be next. The bejewelled feline simply strode off, tail held high and proud, leaving the Zangoose to stare at the carcass for an indeterminate timeframe.

The memory made him shudder involuntarily. Or perhaps it was the thick claws digging into his throat..

He was scared to be killed. He feared death by an unexpected attack more than starving or freak accidents or even taking his own life.

At first, his nerves had been frayed from his constant vigil, but they gradually grew accustomed to the reality they had been thrust into.

It seemed that no matter how many berries he ate, there was always something he lacked. No grass, no fruit nor vegetable filled the gap. He was scared to admit to himself what he knew this missing "something" was…

The Zangoose, at this point, had been deprived of food for days, having been beaten to the punch or just flat out beaten; he wasn't about to give up his meal so easily. He was probably going to die soon anyway. His fear didn't matter anymore.

Mind warped with desperation, he dug his claws into the leg holding him captive, or at least tried to. The skin was too thick and he couldn't summon the strength to pierce it.

With a scoff, the Mightyena retracted his paw, letting Toulouse slip to the ground, spluttering and gasping.

"You're not worth the effort," he spat, turning and taking the small bundle that Toulouse had managed to gather before dashing away.

For a while, the cat-ferret lay still, taking deep, shuddering breaths. Sitting up, he glared bitterly at the ground, making a futile attempt to will the stinging in his eyes and nose away. Crying wouldn't help anything. He needed to find more food, even though the few morsels that had been spirited away were all he had procured over the last two days of hunt.

Getting to his feet fuelled by Mew knows what, he stumbled to the lake in the area, collapsing in an undignified heap barely able to be called a sitting position at the edge.

The sky burned bright orange, the very tips of the tree line sparkling red from the setting sun. It was too late for foraging now. Though the red-eared cat had great eyesight in the dark, his mind was not alert enough to note which plants were edible and which would harm him. He had learnt the subtle differences the hard way, when he spent three days shivering and convulsing, unable to keep anything down. Toulouse wasn't about to chance such a thing happening again.

He sighed in dismay. Another night hungry… Tomorrow he would just have to get up early and start anew.

Watching the sunset ripple on the water's surface was somewhat soothing. Toulouse had almost become mesmerized by it, his glazed stare only broken when something moved beneath the surface.

A Magikarp, not being the brightest creature, had seemingly become separated from its school. It swam up to the cat, looking at him with a dead-eyed expression. Toulouse gave it a curious, quizzical one in return.

Something in the deep, dark recesses of his mind stirred. He could feel it trying to take over, but resisted the foreign presence. His mind began to turn, trying to understand what his subconscious wanted him to do.

His focus wavered only for an instant, when his stomach growled, but that's all it took.

He was abruptly ripped from his physical body as the probing consciousness took hold over him, primal instincts bursting forth. In a flash, he had swiped the fish from the water and onto the grass, where he tore into it with vicious tenacity. Only when the bones were clean did the storm clouds in his mind finally begin to dissipate as his mental state settled and became once more stable. When he finally came back to himself, Toulouse took in a brutal realization

'Killed'…

He had _killed_ something.

The stranger part was that he wasn't nearly as bothered by the fact as he felt he should have been.

His tongue ran over his teeth, absently.

It had felt right… Moreover, he was no longer hungry.

Standing, the Zangoose cast a final glance towards the pitiful collection of scales and bones that had been a living creature not long before. He briefly remembered the Persian and the Taillow. Instead of disgust and fear, he found he was curious. What would the small swallow taste like?

Shortly after the last bit of daylight dipped below the horizon, he ambled back into the forest, lost in his thoughts.

"Survival of the fittest" it was.

Out here it was either kill…

… Or _be_ killed


End file.
